March 26, 2005
John
Ellis
'One Foot in the Swamp'
Hyena Records
Groove
happy
 Saxophonist
John Ellis opens his debut album on Hyena Records, "One
Foot in the Swamp," with a short, electronic ditty
that recalls robot R2D2 in the "Star Wars"
movies. Beyond that he keeps it down to earth when he
breaks into the song "Happy," an organic,
funky New Orleans vibe tune that showcases his groovy
tenor saxophone playing. Guitarist John Scofield guests
on the cut that certainly inspires a hip and happy sort
of jig, and New Orleans jazz cats Jason Marsalis (drums)
and Roland Guerin (bass) keep the groove humming for
keyboardist Aaron Goldberg and Ellis to solo over.
Ellis
has plenty of experience playing with groove-happy guitarists.
He's been in eight-string guitarist Charlie Hunter's
band for quite a few years now and is always a thrilling
part of an evening's improvisational offerings.
"One
Foot in the Swamp" is an apt name for a first album
by Ellis, who has attended school, gigged and taught
in that swampy area of our country that is also known
as the Cradle of Jazz.
Additionally,
Crescent City native son trumpeter Nicholas Payton lends
a hand on a good share of the album's cuts, while jazzman
of the moment on harmonica, Gregoire Maret, registers
his statements skillfully on at least five tunes. The
harmonica and saxophone often play in tandem, and the
tone created seems a natural fit, although it's unusual
in the jazz canon.
The
tune "Bonus Round" also features Ellis in
an occasional ocarina bit, another one of his explorations
into tonal uniqueness on this fine album.
While
one foot may remain rooted in jazz tradition, Ellis
is a youthful jazz artist with apparent aspirations
to reach his contemporaries with inventive sonic gumbos.
The
cut "Seeing Mice" is a case in point, where
Ellis, Goldberg, Payton, Maret and Marsalis weave an
intriguing yarn that may have come from watching mice
run about the room, if not while experiencing a shared
hallucination. A bit more rhythmic form finds its way
into the mix near the song's end, where the listener
can find assurance that all is not lost.
That's
what is so beautiful about the jazz idiom, where suspended
reality is sought, if not in totality, then for just
a moment. It's a groove, man.
--Beth
Peerless
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